


Ember Tongue

by massconvergence



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28932897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/massconvergence/pseuds/massconvergence
Summary: Short story. A forest fire, a terrified merchant caravan sheltering in a cave, and a mage standing between the two.
Kudos: 1





	Ember Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! I drew some art and I wrote a story for it that takes place in the same universe of a novel I'm writing. That's about it. 
> 
> Some of the story is based on the legend of Ed Pulaski's stand during the "Big Blowup" of 1910.

-

He stood at the precipice of a fiery oblivion, back to the cave that held a caravan of extremely unfortunate merchants and their guards who huddled with their wares, mules, and horses as the thick smoke threatened to suffocate them. 

Or perhaps they _were_ fortunate. 

He was there after all. 

Throwing up his left arm to block the heat from the inferno that raged just outside. Sweat beaded on his dark face, his auburn hair - tied in a long ponytail - fluttered behind him in the strong wind. He clenched his right hand into a fist and gritted his teeth. He ignored the embers that now singed the edge of his woolen cloak and focused on the dancing, wild, and hungry inferno that stood in front of him. 

He felt the ravenous hunger of the spirits that made up the fire that tore through the forest in front of them. The fire ingested the loam that carpeted the ground, devoured the small trees that reached towards the heavens, and finally climbed its way to the canopy above. As it ate, it belched out a hot thick smoke and embers that spread to start other fires.

The merchant who led this caravan had mistaken him for a water mage, what with his blue and purple clothes.

He was anything but. 

The fire reached out towards him as he stood at the mouth of the cave, the heat burned his clothes, flames like teeth tried to bite into him, and yet he stood there calmly. 

“ _You will not harm the people in this cave_ ,” he said simply in the language of the Godly Plane, he had to shout for his voice to be heard over the din of the blaze. His hands glowed with light blue energy as he spoke.

The fire tried to find its way around him but to no avail and to those in the cave, it seemed to roar in frustration. To the mage though, he knew what it was saying. 

‘ _Hungry!_ ’ the spirits spoke as one and he knew from experience they’d only speak that one word. Most fire spirits didn’t exactly possess the widest vocabulary.

In some ways, he envied their simplicity.

“ _There’s plenty of forest out there for you to eat,_ ” he replied, “ _The people in this cave wouldn’t sate your appetite even for a moment._ ”

A few embers floated past him and landed near the stranded merchants. One of the guards hurriedly stood up, stamping out the flames with her boot. The smoke threatened to overwhelm her and she quickly retreated to the floor once more. 

He sighed, he was getting nowhere with these negotiations and it seemed he’d have to try a more forceful approach. The energy in his hands grew, growing into a deep blue magical flame that encased his right arm but didn’t burn him or the clothes he wore, “ _I_ tried _talking to them,_ ” he spoke down to the flame on his right arm. 

To anyone watching from the back of the cave, the language he spoke sent cold shivers down their spine despite the radiant heat from the fire.

‘ _You know there’s no negotiating with these simpletons,_ ’ the blue flame said to him as it jumped from his hand to the mouth of the cave, forming a blazing wall that formed a shield between the occupants and the conflagration outside. 

A few of the people sheltering scooted back further at the sight, backs jammed up against the rough stone wall of the shallow cave. 

“ _Yeah but I had hoped…_ ” he said quietly as he wiped away beads of sweat that formed on his brow. 

Maintaining this wall of fire was going to take a lot of out him, the spirit he summoned couldn’t maintain its form in the mortal plane very well without feeding off of his energy. He only hoped the fire raging outside would move on in a couple of hours. 

He heard the sound of footsteps behind him and he looked back to see the woman guard offering him her waterskin, “Thought you might be thirsty.” 

“Thank you,” he said as he took it, his hand shook slightly and he took a deep steadying breath before taking a swig of the cool water. 

She nodded to the blue flames, “That gonna hold?” 

“It should for a few hours at least,” he said, “If the flame front lasts any longer though, we’re going to have to get creative.” 

“Well let’s pray it doesn’t come to that,” she said. 

He looked down at her - her bronze complexion was streaked with dark soot, her brown hair poked out beneath the coif she wore, her bright blue eyes glinted in the glow of the flames. Her kettle helmet was discarded on the floor by where the others still sat, staring in awe at the blue flame.

“You seem less perturbed than your companions,” he said nonchalantly. 

“Per-what-now?” 

“... Less afraid of the flame wall,” he jerked his head towards the mouth of the cave, “And well, to be frank, less afraid of _me._ ”

She shrugged, “You see a mage wipe out your entire legion in a single day, you get pretty used to seeing major magic being done. This,” she motioned to the flame wall, “Is hardly a party trick… no offense sir.” 

“None taken,” he said slowly though he had to admit, he was _slightly_ offended.

30 years at an academy learning to master control over the fire spirits and she just called his life-saving maneuver a party trick. 

“Anyway, if they start panicking too much over the magic, I’ll sort them out,” she patted the sword on her hip and gave him a slightly sadistic grin.

“I’m assuming if you went up against battle mages, you were fighting the Empire,” he raised an eyebrow. 

“I was born in what they called the Protectorate before it became that,” she grimaced as if tasting something bitter, “We _thought_ we could put up a fight.”

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly.

She shrugged, “Was a long time ago and while some people still try to fight … This life pays better.”

-

The fire had moved on in the next hour, the spirits screams of hunger dissipating with distance though a few small pockets of ember and flame remained in the charred forest landscape. With a sigh of relief, the mage released the blue flame and the wall fell, revealing a smoky hellscape just outside of the cave. He sat down heavily at the mouth of the cave, the sun had set and the caravan decided to camp out in the cave that night and not risk moving on to the next town over - if it was still standing. 

Outside of the cave sat the smoldering carcasses of the animals and humans who had failed to make it to shelter in time. The mage whispered a small prayer to the remains, wishing their souls safe passage to the Godly Plane. 

Sleep was a fitful endeavor that night and dawn rose on a quiet and smoke-shrouded forest. 

The leader of the caravan approached the mage, “You saved our lives - you have our gratitude.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said, “I took an oath to protect people.”

“I’ll be honest with you mage,” the merchant said with a chuckle, “I thought you were a water mage given your garb.”

The mage smiled, “It’s a common mistake,” he said, “These are the colors of my academy, the Academy in the Tamn.” 

“The Tamn…” the merchant sounded surprised, “An Imperial city. What in the name of the gods are you doing _here_ then?” 

The mage was quiet for a long moment before finally saying, “Academy business.”


End file.
